


Unremarkable

by days4daisy



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Boring sex, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Season/Series 10, Tumblr Prompt, Vague Reference to Past Breathplay, Vague Reference to Past Torture
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-31
Updated: 2015-08-31
Packaged: 2018-04-18 05:24:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4693694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/days4daisy/pseuds/days4daisy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The deep sores of Crowley's true face crack into something like a smile. “Do you like this, angel?” he asks.</p>
<p>Castiel would not answer if Crowley were being smug. He does not like taunts about these meetings. The shame he feels is enough. </p>
<p>But Castiel does answer, because Crowley is not being smug. He sounds genuinely curious. Castiel, in turn, is intrigued. “Yes,” he replies.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unremarkable

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a Tumblr anon prompt:
> 
> _Crowstiel - boring sex (who even has the energy to have mindblowing, kinky sex all the time? Crowley resents having to live up to some sort of stereotype just because he's the king of hell and he actually likes having boring sex from time to time frigging sue him)_
> 
> Yes please *_*

Castiel waits.

Crowley moves his hand from Castiel’s thigh to his knee. He eases Castiel’s leg up. 

Castiel follows. The motion spreads him wider, lets Crowley shift tight to his body. Waist bone hits ass with a satisfying slap. Castiel grunts - this is a good angle. 

Inside, Castiel's broken wings rustle, as if shaking off a morning rain. How much of this can a demon see, Castiel wonders. And how much does he see of the demon? It is strange how calm Crowley’s eyes are now, their usual gush of power a delicate glow. 

The deep sores of Crowley's true face crack into something like a smile. “Do you like this, angel?” he asks.

Castiel would not answer if Crowley were being smug. He does not like taunts about these meetings. The shame he feels is enough. 

But Castiel does answer, because Crowley is not being smug. He sounds genuinely curious. Castiel, in turn, is intrigued. “Yes,” he replies. 

Again, he waits.

Crowley curls his hand around the inside of Castiel’s knee. He urges Castiel’s leg higher. Castiel’s foot dangles over Crowley’s back. 

Castiel's mortal eyes roll back. It is so difficult to focus in this physical form.

This angle turns out to be better than the last. Crowley’s vessel strikes that bed of nerves inside his own. Funny how one point of focus can shoot sensation to the whole. Pleasure wires through Castiel’s body like a telephone switch board.

Castiel presses his toes against Crowley’s back. His skin is warm and firm. What a strange, human observation.

Crowley sets his free hand on Castiel’s stomach. He has strong fingers. They are manicured and clean. But their callouses betray labor.

Castiel wonders about this vessel. Why did Crowley pick it, why has he kept it for so long? And why does Castiel lust for it as he does?

Crowley’s eyes glint in the midday sun. The room's curtains billow under a lazy breeze. Castiel smells lavender from the tree just beyond the window.

The unremarkable is so remarkable in this world.

Castiel shifts beneath Crowley’s weight. He feels the pressure of Crowley’s hand on his belly. Warm and heavy, it makes him groan. Hi cock bobs lazily between them. Pre-cum at the tip leaves a wet stripe on Crowley's stomach. 

Crowley glances downward and licks his lips. Maybe now, Castiel's wait will be over.

Castiel knows what it means to owe the demon something. “King,” he muttered on arrival, unbuttoning his shirt.

He offered his tie to Crowley without a word. In the past, Crowley has bound Castiel’s wrists with the accessory. Or knotted it around Castiel’s neck. Fucked him as little gasps hitched from deprived lips.

Today, Crowley set the tie aside. As he began on his own clothes, he motioned towards the bed. “Lie down,” he said. A second’s pause, then, “On your back, angel. I’d like to see your face.” An odd, intimate request. 

Castiel expected blood, biting, or bruises. Crowley eased against his thighs and traced a well-lubed finger between his cheeks. Castiel does not require preparation or lubricant. The promise of both made him suck in a surprised breath.

And now, here they are. This most basic of sex. Crowley’s eyes sit on Castiel’s cock. He sucks his lower lip in thought.

No harnesses materialize, and no cages. Crowley simply moves a hand to Castiel’s knee cap. At his press, Castiel stretches his leg to full extension. His calf braces on Crowley’s shoulder, foot in the air.

Crowley’s weight presses to the back of his thighs. Castiel chokes on a breath. This is a very, very good angle.

He steadies himself by staring at the fingers on his belly. Castiel sees past Crowley's skin to the scars burned beneath. The charred, knotted remains of a creature broken beyond recognition.

Castiel covers the hand with his. He is not sure why he does this. It is not a pardon for the things Crowley has done. This intimacy is not a pardon for what Castiel has done either.

Crowley’s hand laces with his. His thumb strokes the inside of Castiel's wrist. Castiel feels each caress like a tongue at his groin.

He sucks in a breath, blinking at the ceiling. His thumb moves in kind, tracing the slope of Crowley’s index knuckle. Castiel moves the finger forward, then back. Like Crowley inside him. Forward, then back. A steady rhythm, progressing 

Crowley’s body thrusts into his raised leg. Castiel arches pleasantly. Crowley’s cock is thick in him. His hips obey, settling into this deeper pace.

Crowley pushes again, to that sensitive place. Castiel shivers and pants between parted lips.

Crowley releases his knee to embrace his leg. His hand winds around Castiel’s cock. Castiel shudders and lifts his waist. Crowley’s balls are heavy against him, skin smacking skin with every thrust. Castiel makes a quiet, approving sound. Their joined hands bob against the tattoo on his side.

“You…” Crowley says. He does not complete the thought. A curse meant as an endearment? An endearment meant as a curse?

Castiel swallows hard. He can almost taste his voice. A low rumble, smooth and sweet as Crowley's beloved Craig. 

Castiel is beginning to feel unhinged. It is an uncomfortable sensation. His hand tenses in Crowley’s.

He is rewarded with a squeeze of his cock head. And a torturous downward stroke. Castiel groans between grit teeth. His head tips back, and he stares at the headboard. Or, somewhat-stares. His vision is unsteady.

Crowley’s weight falls between his thighs, harder now. He has his angle set. That oh-so-good angle. Crowley’s nail scatches the inside of his wrist. Castiel moans. He is losing this battle, in a war already lost.

Above him, the demon’s eyes billow. His twisted expression softens, a calm beneath his tortured scars. Even as enemies, Castiel was drawn to his pain.

Castiel comes apart under Crowley’s hands. A note of relief yanks from his lips, lines of wetness on his belly. Their joined hands are somehow unsullied, clenched tight between their bodies.

A growl rumbles over him, the feral release of the demon. Lava eyes cool to human brown.

Castiel sighs when Crowley rises from him, but it is a brief parting. Crowley comes to him again, lying at his side. Their joined hands rest beside Castiel’s ear.

Crowley’s mouth covers his. Their noses nuzzle, an odd sensation. Castiel hums, and Crowley smirks. 

Lips and tongues and breaths. Strange, human things. 

Castiel feels warm. His hand stays with Crowley’s, free arm around his waist. He traces fingers down Crowley’s spine. Crowley’s cock softens against his thigh.

The unremarkable is so remarkable in this world.

*The End*

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm also on [Tumblr](http://daisy4days.tumblr.com) :)


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